


A Fic a Day in May

by stubliminalmessaging



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, fic a day in may
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:10:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 16,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1553198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubliminalmessaging/pseuds/stubliminalmessaging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of my fics for Fic a Day in May. Rating will change as I write the fics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ian takes care of Mickey after he gets his wisdom teeth removed

**Author's Note:**

> A wonderful fic event from magneticdice :) she mentioned it to me awhile ago and I wasn't sure I could manage it but here I am anyways! I might not write something everyday, but i'll do my best! enjoy!

“You’re good to take him home now,” the doctor said, passing Ian a Ziploc baggie of supplies and a bottle of pills. Ian thanked him and tossed the bag into Mickey’s lap and wheeled him out to the elevator.

“Can we get ice cream?” Mickey asked, sitting back in the chair and looking back and up at Ian, more concerned than he probably had any reason to be. “You said we’d get ice cream.”

“No yet, Mick.”

Mickey looked like he was going to break down crying. When he spoke again his voice was especially muffled by the gauze stuffing his swollen cheeks. “But you promised.”

“Yeah but you’ll just puke it up. The drugs will make you sick,” Ian assured him, taking on the tone he might use when conferring with a toddler.

“But my mouth is hurty and only ice cream can save me,” Mickey said, a bit hysterical. He made an effort to get to his feet, effectively knocking all his stuff to the floor. Ian grabbed one of Mickey’s shoulders and pulled him back into the wheelchair. “Fuck off, Gallagher. I’m gonna diiiiiiiiie.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Ian said, rolling his eyes and pushing Mickey out to the parking lot. He was positively wailing. Ian got him to the car before he shot up from the chair and took off across the parking lot, as soon as Ian’s back was turned to open the door for him.

He would have chased Mickey if he hadn’t wobbled precariously as he ran and collided with a parked car before falling over on the damp pavement. Ian put his stuff in the car and then went to get Mickey, hauling him into his arms and bringing him back to the car. They had a quiet night ahead of them, Mickey babbling about nothing and demanding enough cold dairy to make him sick twice, with Ian only recording the funnier parts. First, though, Ian needed to stop at the grocery store and pick up some ice cream, leaving Mickey struggling to escape the car. The seat belt buckle and locked door were too hard for his painkiller-addled mind to overcome and so when Ian came back he found Mickey passed out in the passenger seat drooling against the window.


	2. The "bad parenting" scene except it's Mandy and Mickey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by muh gurl Kate (theabelincolnofmouthwhores.tumblr.com) - "something like the "bad parenting" scene only it's Mandy and Mickey being like how did we get mixed up with two Gallaghers"

                Mickey looked up from his magazine when he heard the door creak open. Normally he could have ignored them since people tended to walk through his room all the time but since he’d moved rooms to accommodate his wife and their bigger bed, he’d had less people randomly wandering into his room whenever they had to piss.

 

                Mandy poked her head into the room, timid like she never was before she started dating Kenyatta. “You got a second?” she asked, and he didn’t answer until she said, “I brought beer,” and showed him the bottles. He waved her in and she closed the door behind her.

 

                She crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing him where he sat on the chair. She offered him an already-opened beer and he took it.

 

                They were quiet for awhile, neither wanting to start the conversation. Mickey knew that Mandy knew about him now, since you’d have to be deaf to have not heard Gallagher’s drunken ranting at his wedding reception. Knowing about it probably made her jump to all kinds of conclusions, and Mickey felt like a bit of a dick for not telling her himself but she was better off not knowing.

 

                “How long?” she asked after another few seconds of tense silence. She paused, then elaborated. “How long have you and Ian been…?”

 

                “Fucking,” Mickey said instead of letting her finish that bit of speculation. “I was sixteen when we first hooked up.”

 

                “…holy shit,” Mandy blinked a couple times, and Mickey couple practically see her matching up events with times and piecing things together in her head. “You’ve been to juvie twice since then-“

 

                “He slept with other people and I fucked guys in juvie but we picked up where we left off every time I got back out.”

 

                “…you sure you weren’t dating?” Mandy asked. “I mean, who sticks around like that if they’re not even dating?”

 

                “Fuck off,” Mickey spat, taking a swig of beer while Mandy laughed. “See if you’re fuckin’ cackling when I start asking questions about the Gallagher you’re fucking.”

 

                “Dating. And it’s past tense now. Jesus, get it _straight_ , Mick.” Mandy let that comment sit, barely keeping herself from cracking up at her own pun. Mickey rolled his eyes.

 

                “Whatever. Point is you wouldn’t want me to fuckin’ interrogate you about him so don’t do it to me.”

 

                “Yeah, alright,” Mandy sighed and followed it with a mouthful of beer. “How did we manage to get mixed up with two Gallaghers?”

 

                Mickey paused. “Bad parenting?” he offered, shrugging and nursing his beer.


	3. Mandy stabs Kenyatta with a shiv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to the surprise of literally no one, this was suggested to me by Kate (theabelincolnofmouthwhores.tumblr.com)

                “Yo, you free this afternoon?” Mickey asked, bustling into the Milkovich kitchen and shrugging off his jacket. They were blessedly alone in the house, Svetlana off doing whatever dykey things she was doing lately and Kenyatta gone… somewhere. Work or something, Mickey supposed.

 

                “Yeah, till like five. Got some shit to do before work,” Mandy answered, scrubbing congealed egg off a plate in the sink.

 

                “Wanna watch Yev for a few hours, then? I’m gonna go visit Gallagher,” Mickey asked, leaning against the kitchen table. He’d just gotten back from checking in at the bar and getting his cut from the business upstairs. He’d gotten everything done early on purpose so he would have a few hours to visit Ian. He wouldn’t normally ask Mandy to watch the kid if he’d been going anywhere else, but he had a feeling Ian wouldn’t react well to seeing the baby, faultless as he was for the circumstances under which he was conceived. He just wanted to spare Ian all the trauma he could, and to do everything in his power to keep him as calm as possible.

 

                “Can you come by the diner tonight and help me with something?”

 

                “Sure. What time?”

 

                “Around 11. I need you to take the car and drop some stuff off for me while I’m working,” Mandy said, almost absently.

 

                “… Mandy, if you want me to dump a body for you, just fuckin’ come out and say it.” Mickey said after only a moment’s pause.

 

                “Yep. You got gloves, right?”

 

                “Yeah. Who’d you kill?”

 

                Mandy turned away from the sink and Mickey saw her fresh black eye for the first time. “Who the fuck do you think?” she asked, turning back to the sink and putting a couple clean forks in a cup to dry with her newly-cleaned toothbrush-turned-shiv/murder weapon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally she was just gonna stab him but she killed him oops


	4. Alternative 4x11 Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically what I wanted to happen when Amanda's parents were having dinner at the Gallaghers'

“So you live here in the summer?” Amanda’s mother asked, and Lip have to give it to her, she was really trying to sound interested and to keep in how terrified she was by the thought of her daughter dating him.

 

“Uh – yeah. I work all summer to save up money for the winter. All my siblings do what they can to help.”

 

“And… how many siblings have you got?” Amanda’s mother asked, while her father rolled his eyes. He was clearly done with Lip and his shit.

 

“Six. Though two of them are only half-siblings,” Lip replied. “There might be more. Our mom and dad never really kept it in their pants. My oldest brother, Ian, he’s actually my dad’s brother’s.”

 

“Isn’t that interesting,” Amanda’s mom said, still clinging to anything she could. “And where are all those siblings now?”

 

“Well Sammi – I think her name is? She’s with Frank, our dad, trying to scam him a new liver since his is rotting inside him thanks to the life he’s devoted to alcohol and drug abuse and neglect for his kids,” Lip paused, as if trying to remember what came next, before he continued. “Fiona’s the kids' legal guardian, but she’s in jail right now for breaking parole after she let Liam here get into her coke,” Lip ruffled Liam’s hair, eliciting a giggle from him. “Then my brother Ian ran away to join the army but he came back and now he dances at a gay club and he’s fucking the neighbourhood thug-turned-pimp who is actually married to a Russian whore and had a kid. Also I’m pretty certain he’s either on a lot of drugs all the time or he’s fucking crazy like our mom. Or both. Then there’s Debbie, who is trying to sleep with a 20-year-old guy even though she’s only 13 and modeling herself after the middle school sluts she hangs out with. Then my brother Carl is a budding sociopath who has finally graduated from mutilating action figures and stray pets to beating up kids at school. I think he’s upstairs, possibly having sex with his girlfriend, and all these kids are her siblings. They live in a van,” he gestured vaguely to the gang of kids running around screaming in the living room. “Last is Liam, who has barely had a chance to commit any crimes or make any bad decisions, but he’s already managed to be subjected to a drug overdose and probably brain damage,” Lip finished, paying little heed to the looks of horror on Amanda’s parents’ faces (and Amanda herself, to some extent; she knew about Lip’s complicated family a bit but she’d never had it all laid out before her at once). Liam grinned and shoved his fingers in his mouth from his high chair.

 

“You said –“ Amanda’s mother began, trying to recover. “You said you work in the summer? What is it you do?”

 

“Oh – I sell drugs and beer out of an ice cream truck at local parks and shit,” Lip answered, and before he got a chance to go on about how he’d rigged a police scanner to alert them of approaching cops, there was a slam as if something had crashed into the front door which made them all jump, including Lip. Even Liam looked over his shoulder towards the door curiously.

 

The doorknob rattled as if someone was fumbling to open it before it flew open and Ian and Mickey stumbled in, too tangled up in each other to notice (or care about) the assembled people at the table. They struggled to get out of their jackets and Mickey was quicker, letting his drop to the floor and then going at Ian, shoving him into the wall beside the door and kissing him hard. Lip noticed they were covered in blood and bruises were beginning to show and he wondered just what the fuck had happened to them.

 

Mickey got Ian’s coat off him and pulled back from his mouth to attack his neck, latching on and probably leaving one hell of a mark. That was when Ian looked past Mickey and saw the company seated at the table, including three strangers. He pushed at Mickey’s shoulder and eventually shoved him away, revealing the deep plum coloured mark left behind by Mickey’s mouth. He looked to the side and noticed their audience, but for once he didn’t bolt. He stared them down as if they were the ones intruding on him. He’d just come out to a bar full of people; he figured he’d earned the right to do whatever he wanted with Ian, regardless of who saw. He was feeling defiant like that. He licked his lips and tasted blood, though he wasn’t sure if it was his own or Ian’s or Terry’s.

 

“The redhead with the fucking vampire bite is Ian, my brother,” Lip said, breaking the silence. Mickey glared at him for the vampire comment. “And the pint-sized neck sucker is Mickey, his… something.”

 

“Boyfriend,” both boys supplied in unison, Ian fucking beaming and even Mickey looking pleased with himself. Mickey finally stepped back and let Ian breathe his own air. He automatically cringed and clutched at his ribs and Mickey looked concerned but didn’t comment.

 

“This is my girlfriend Amanda and her parents,” Lip said, picking up his beer and gesturing to them. He took a big gulp, then asked; “The fuck happened to you two?”

 

“Told my dad and half my family and all my girls that I’m fucking gay,” Mickey replied, not even a little sorry. Lip would even go so far as to say he was proud. “You can imagine how fucking well my dad took that.”

 

“Shit,” Lip laughed. “Well, all things considered you don’t look too bad. You’re not dead, did you…?”

 

“No,” Ian laughed, having only to pause for a second before he caught on. “No, he got arrested again. Getting into a fight broke his parole.”

 

“Well, here’s hoping someone shanks him in the joint and he dies of infection,” Lip said, raising his bottle to the two boys who considered that a dismissal and took off up the stairs, groping and kissing each other at every chance they got. Lip turned back to Amanda, who looked rattled but pleased, and her parents, who looked scared shitless. “So where were we?”


	5. Ian procures a dildo to keep Mickey from leaving him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by (what a surprise) Kate (theabelincolnofmouthwhores.tumblr.com)

                “The fuck is this?” Mickey asked, going into Ian’s office and dropping a nondescript white plastic bag on the desk. Ian looked up from what he was working on and blanched at the bag.

 

                “Shit,” he murmured.

 

                “No, actually, it’s a big green dildo. I don’t know why you’d ever keep shit in a bag on the top shelf of our closet. That’s fuckin’ weird, Gallagher. Even for you.”

 

Ian didn’t even chuckle so Mickey heaved a sigh and leaned his hip against the desk. “How did you even find it? You can’t see on that shelf, it’s too high.”

 

“Ay, you’re the one we’re laughing at right now, not me,” Mickey said. He pushed at Ian’s shoulders until he rolled his chair backwards and when he did he slid into Ian’s lap in the chair. “So you were hiding that thing from me why?”

 

Ian swallowed, shifting as Mickey settled in his lap, straddling him. “I-I was embarrassed.”

 

“What, ‘cause you can’t get it up with your meds?”Mickey asked, undoing the top button of Ian’s shirt and slowly working his way down. He didn’t need Ian to answer before he continued. “We already fucking talked about this, Firecrotch. I don’t want any cock besides yours.”

 

“I’m just pissed off that I can’t fuck you like I want to,” Ian grumbled. “I’ve considered skipping out on my pills almost every day since I started on them.”

 

“No, you’re not going off your meds,” Mickey rolled his eyes. “Especially not for something as stupid as this. I can wait until your dick is back in working order.”

 

“That could take months,” Ian said. “Just let me go off them so I can fuck the life out of you and we’ll figure it out from there.”

 

“No,” Mickey said without a second’s hesitation. “No. Is this because of that guy at the club who keeps hitting on me when you’re dancing? ‘Cause I tell him to fuck off every time and I even elbowed him in the dick last time he tried to get up on me while I was watching you.”

 

“It’s not about him,” Ian assured him. “Not specifically, at least.” He paused and stared at the floor, hands stroking up over Mickey’s hips and settling at his waist. “You know you can sleep with other people. You don’t have to go without just because I’m broken.”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey said. “You’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else. Now hurry up and get the fucking thing out of the box and fuck me, if it’s gonna make you feel better,” he paused, waiting for Ian to move. When he just stared at Mickey, slack-jawed, he thug-turned-pimp-turned-mechanic stroked his fingers through Ian’s hair and looked down at him with a quirked eyebrow. “You gonna lift me up on the desk sometime this century? Ain’t got all day,” he paused a second and smirked at Ian. “Actually, I do. Give it to me till I can’t fuckin’ walk.”


	6. Post 4x11 Coming-Out Cuteness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shockingly enough, this was suggested by Kate (theabelincolnofmouthwhores.tumblr.com)

                Normally Ian and Mickey were used to the Gallagher house being chocked full of people. Ian had lived with it all his life and Mickey had gotten pretty used to it in the weeks he’d spend living there. He didn’t spend a lot of time getting friendly with Ian’s siblings but he still felt more comfortable with them than he did with most people.

 

                But he would _not_ forgive Carl for this easily. The one night they came home early with a shower and bed in mind (and not even in the sexy way!) was the night that Carl decided to put up about ten random kids. They were crammed like sardines into every available bed and couch in the house and even an older kid conked out in a nest of blankets in the bathtub, crushing Mickey’s dreams of taking a shower with Ian and helping him scrub the blood out of his hair.

 

                Lip was still awake when they’d gotten home and he’d said something like; “Sorry guys, stake out a patch of floor or somethin’” before taking his rich college girl upstairs with him, presumably to his bed. If Mickey was into girls and Mandy wasn’t his sister he’d definitely be more into her than this new bitch. Straight guys had terrible taste, and Lip had the worst taste of all. (I mean come on, _Karen Jackson_?)

 

                The thought of no shower and a night on the floor just wasn’t doing it for Mickey though. “Fuck that, we’re sleeping in a bed,” Mickey decided, turning right back around and heading back out the door. Ian was right there behind him, footfalls heavy on the wet pavement.

 

                “Are we going to your place?” Ian asked, slowing his long strides to match Mickey’s shorter ones.

 

                “Yeah. There’s no way you’re sleeping on the floor with those ribs,” Mickey replied, lighting up a smoke and offering it to Ian. It was turned down since Ian had quit while he’d been away, but it still felt familiar enough to offer anyway.

 

                They walked in silence for a bit, Mickey smoking and Ian thinking, until Ian suddenly spoke. “Does it feel any different?”

 

                “Ask me again when I can breathe without everything fuckin’ hurting,” Mickey said, but he laughed. “Nah, man, doesn’t feel much different. Think I’m in shock… from what I can tell, it feels good though.”

 

                Ian smiled at that. “I feel good for you. I’m so proud of you, Mickey.” He frowned a little, despite his words. “I know no one should ever put anyone in a position like I did to you, especially not someone the love, and I’m sorry for that. It was pretty shitty of me.”

 

                “It was gonna happen soon anyways. At least I got to drop the bomb instead of having my fuckin’ wife blackmail me again,” Mickey didn’t even pull his hand away when Ian took it and slotted their fingers together. It felt good to have Ian’s palm pressed against his and to be able to walk with Ian, to be together without worrying about the wrong person seeing and telling his dad. Other people in the neighbourhood would beat them up for being gay, but Mickey felt like if he could handle his father and scream at him about how much he loves dick (Ian fucking Gallagher’s, for fuck’s sake), then he could deal with any other South Side homophobes.

 

                “You’re quiet,” Ian commented, breaking Mickey out of his deep thoughts. He blinked up at Ian, which was possibly the most adorable thing ever, and Ian couldn’t help stealing a quick kiss before leaning back into his own space. He wore a little smile while Mickey was a combination of stunned, pleased, and panicked until he realized he had less reason to be than he had had three hours ago. “What are you thinking about?”

 

                “Nothing,” Mickey replied, gesturing with his free hand to his own house, two down from where they were. “C’mon, that shower’s got our names on it. I’d offer you a blowjob but it hurts to open my mouth so can I owe you one?”

 

                “Ride me tomorrow morning and we’re even,” Ian said, chancing another quick kiss as they climbed the steps to Mickey’s house. “Just take it easy on the bruised/possibly-broken ribs.”

 

                “Can’t make any promises,” Mickey said, honest as always.


	7. Mickey is unhappy that Lip doesn't seem to care about Ian's illness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a bit sad and I found it really hard to write. hope you enjoy anyways

                Ian’s siblings were great with Ian, mostly. The younger ones came by to visit him often and the first time Ian sat up by his own will was when Debbie had come over to show Ian the dress she was wearing to the dance or whatever. Not only had he sat up and watched her twirl around in it, he had told her she was beautiful and they looked at shoes online. She’d probably borrow a pair of Fiona’s, but they still enjoyed looking and dreaming and Ian was smiling and talking which couldn’t be a bad thing.

 

                Carl came by less frequently than Debbie but more than Fiona and he mostly babbled about school and his girlfriend and the cruel but “fair” punishments he issued to anyone who fucked with him or his girl or talked shit about his family. Ian frowned and told him he probably shouldn’t be so hot-headed. Mickey privately thought it served them right. You protect your fucking family. When Ian had gotten on his meds and was a bit better physically, he showed Carl some of the stuff he’d learned in the army, though his stint had been so short it wasn’t much more than he’d learned at ROTC. He’d promised before he enlisted and he planned on making good on it. As disappointed as Carl had been about Ian not flying anything or shooting anyone, he still enjoyed the stories that Ian told him.

 

                Fiona sometimes came by, usually with Liam who especially liked poking and prodding at Yevgeny when he was awake so a lot of the time Fiona handed him over to Svetlana who sat and smoked with Nika while Liam played with the baby. It took Ian a long time to warm up to Fiona again. Mickey figured Ian could feel those big wide eyes of hers worrying about him, afraid he’d crawl off somewhere to try and kill himself like Monica had. Worse, she was convinced that Mickey couldn’t handle this, like he wasn’t seriously in this for real with Ian. He couldn’t beat it into her with his fists (or even his words since she insisted on arguing with him over everything) so he took to showing her instead. He stuck with Ian, spending every second that he wasn’t at work with him and never once giving up on him no matter how much it broke him to see the boy he loved falling apart. When he chose to track down a doctor and brought Ian to see him and got him his meds and set him on the right path she seemed to finally accept that Mickey cared about Ian and wanted to help him and take care of him and that was good enough for her.

 

                Surprisingly, the only other sibling close enough to Ian to realistically visit him was the one who didn’t until two weeks into his first real bout of depression after getting on his meds. Fiona asked every time she visited if Lip had been to visit but Ian always told her he hadn’t and she got this ashen look on her face and said she was sure he’d visit soon. Ian always shrugged and said ‘whatever, he’s probably got a lot going on’ and tried to act like it was nothing, but as soon as Fiona left he would curl in on himself and refuse to even talk to Mickey. Mickey still sat with him and fell asleep with a hand on him but it was hard to deal with him being quiet and sad again after his other siblings had worked to bring him up.

 

                When Lip finally did visit, Mickey answered the door. He scowled down at Lip where he stood on the step and leaned his hip against the doorframe, barring him entrance. Lip watched him as he lit a smoke, impatient.

 

                “So you gonna fucking let me see him or what?” he asked, at the end of his rope.

 

                “Coulda come and seen him a fuckin’ week ago,” Mickey commented. “Not like he’s gone anywhere; it’s been two weeks since he left the house.”

 

                “Been busy,” Lip said flippantly. “College, remember?”

 

                “Yeah, yeah,” Mickey narrowed his eyes at Lip and sucked on his smoke. “Mandy works sixty-hour weeks and still had time to get the shit kicked out of her by that cunt she’s still fucking _and_ keep Ian company. You got no fucking excuse.”

 

                “What excuse do you have for not keeping Mandy away from him then?” Lip asked, gesturing past Mickey into the house even though neither Mandy nor Kenyatta were around. “How come you haven’t fucking saved her if you’re suddenly a fucking hero and expect everyone else to be? I can’t fucking save Ian!”

 

                “Mandy came back. I got her somewhere safe and she came back to him. I can’t protect her if she’s going to keep crawling back,” Mickey finished his smoke and smothered the butt against the railing on his step, then flicked it into the yard. He shoved past Lip and walked down the step. He paused on the bottom one. “And I’m not some fucking hero, but I _am_ gonna save Ian. I let him down and now I’m gonna make it right.” He started off down the sidewalk.

 

                Lip stared at the open door to the Milkovich house like it was a portal to another dark dimension and started when Mickey called back to him over his shoulder. “You should probably do the same. I gotta go in to work for a few hours. Don’t be here when I get back.”


	8. Mickey reflecting on Ian after his crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this while attempting to write yesterday's fic and it's shit but here it is

                After moving into the Gallagher house, Mickey’s mornings became surprisingly routine. Where there had been no such thing as morning at his own house, the Gallaghers woke up ungodly early for school and work. He’d be more pissed off about it if he wasn’t already awake an hour or more before the rest of the family. Ian would get in late and either wake Mickey up or he’d finally go to sleep after waiting up for him. They’d sleep for a couple hours on weekdays and then Ian would be up, manic and hyper and babbling about going for a run. He’d kiss Mickey goodbye, then bustle down the stairs and out of the door. Mickey usually went back to sleep and woke up properly when Ian’s siblings started stirring, but he much preferred weekends when Ian would sleep till about eight before bouncing up, chipper and bright even while nursing a hangover.

 

                Which Mickey was fine with. Ian was high a lot and it was probably not healthy, but having spent most of his teenage years dealing drugs he could hardly talk. At first when Ian had crashed Mickey had thought he was withdrawing, until the little Gallagher girl told him different. He’d refused to let Ian go to the hospital for the first while, but aside from that he did everything he could to help his boyfriend. He sat and talked to him, offered him food and water and anything else he could think of, and always asked him if there was anywhere he wanted to go or anything he wanted to do. He was mostly turned down but he steadfastly tried and that was what mattered. Eventually Ian would say yes and Mickey would be there and ready when he did.


	9. Kev rescues Mickey when he doesn't know what to do with Yevgeny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got about a thousand kidfics in the works right now. I should prolly save some for gallavich week but they're not really super gallavichy so whatevs

                “Shit, Kev, shut the fuck up,” Mickey hissed. “He’s finally asleep, you better not fuck it up.”

 

                Mickey looked down at the baby asleep on his chest and Kev snickered. One of his girls stirred and he fell silent, carefully rocking both bassinets with his foot. His girls fell silent again and he sighed in relief.

 

                They were quiet for another few minutes before Mickey asked pretty suddenly; “Ay, either of yours ever get a rash?”

 

                “What, like diaper rash or whatever?” Kev asked.

 

                “Nah, it’s on the back of his neck and shoulders,” Mickey said, looking up from where Yev snoozed over to Kev. “Think he’s allergic to something or some shit?”

 

                “He sick at all? Like hot?” Kev asked and Mickey checked his little forehead with the back of a couple of his fingers and shook his head. “Too bad. That’d be the easy part. V read online that sometimes babies get fevers and rashes and all you gotta do is give ‘em some antibiotics.”

 

                “Well shit,” Mickey mumbled, testing Yevgeny’s forehead again in the hopes that it could be as simple as that. He fornwed and gently brushed his fingertips over the soft downy tuft of dark hair on Yev’s head. Like most other things, he shared that feature with Mickey. His nose was reminiscent of his mother’s but everything else, from his bright blue eyes to the pastiness of his skin, was all Mickey.

 

                “What are you gonna do?”

 

                “Fucked if I know, man,” Mickey replied honestly. “Wife’ll cut my dick off if he got sick while he was with me.”

 

                “You wanna take him to the clinic?” Kev asked. “C’mon, you go and get your car and meet me out front. I’ll find some car seats. Don’t imagine you’ve got one for Yev?”

 

                “No?” Mickey said. Kev nodded.

 

                "I’ll find something. Give me Yev and go get your car,” Kev got up holding his hands out for Mickey to extricate the sleeping child off his chest. “Svetlana working tonight?”

 

                “Nah, I gave her the house for the night. Some shit with Nika? Hooker convention? Lesbian orgy? I dunno.”

 

                “Alright. We got till tomorrow to fix this, then. Let’s get to it,” Kev made a grabby motion with his hands for Yev and Mickey managed to pass his son over without waking him up, a miracle in and of itself. When Mickey wasn’t moving fast enough for his taste, Kev said; “Come on, man. This is your kid. We gotta find out what’s wrong with him. Buddy pimps unite!”

 

                “Jesus, Kev,” Mickey sighed, hauling himself to his feet.


	10. Kev, Mickey, and Lip are all parental and shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idea given to me by Kate (theabelincolnofmouthwhores.tumblr.com)

                “We look sketchy as fuck,” Lip commented, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette. “Bunch of white dudes sitting in a park with a gang of black kids.”

 

                “My kid’s white,” Mickey argued, perking up as his son called out to him from the slide. Once he knew Mickey was watching and when Mickey had verbally confirmed it, he slid down and Mickey congratulated him. After he’d impressed his dad, Yev ran off to play with one of Kev’s girls.

 

                “Mine are half,” Kev agreed. “And fuck knows what Liam is. But it still probably looks fuckin’ weird.”

 

                At that moment Carol’s son Andre went crashing into the sand at the end of the slide. Liam was there before Kev was, helping him to his feet. Kev only got a chance to brush the sand off his son/brother-in-law before he was running after Liam like nothing had happened.

 

                Kev wandered back to the bench where Lip and Mickey sat smoking and flopped down next to Mickey. He frowned. “Man, it’s like they barely need me anymore.”

 

                “Nah, they’re just tough little shits,” Lip said, stubbing his spent smoke out and shrugging. “Better than them being delicate little princesses, right? No offense, Mickey.”

 

                “Fuck you,” Mickey said without missing a beat, flicking his ash on Lip’s pantleg and blowing smoke in his face. “You’re right though. Can’t be soft. Not in this fucking neighbourhood.”

 

                “Yeah, but I still want ‘em to need me to protect them and help them and shit,” Kev said, sighing wistfully.

 

                “Tell me about it again when they’re fifteen and every guy on the fuckin’ block is tryna put it in ‘em.” Mickey said. “Least all I gotta worry about is mine not being a prick.”

 

                “What if he’s straight?” Lip asked, grinning broadly. “I mean between you and your wife genetics aren’t exactly on his side for that, but it could happen.”

 

                “It’s not fuckin’ hereditary,” Mickey rolled his eyes. “Besides, the way I see it it’s not much different as far as he’s concerned. One of us likes pussy and one of us likes dick so whatever he likes he got one parent that likes it too.”

 

                “That’s… surprisingly fatherly of you, Mick. Wish I had a camera for that little speech, it was fucking heartwarming.”

 

                “Choke on a dick,” Mickey said, looking across the playground to where his four-year-old son waved at him and he waved back.

 

                “Nah, I’ll leave that to you,” Lip said. “Though I suppose you don’t choke anymore since you’ve had so much practice.” He got up from the bench and went to where Liam was pushing the twins on the swing set. He encouraged Liam to get in one of the other swings and then he alternated pushing the three kids.

 

Dre went and occuppied the last swing and Yev looked a little down. Mickey was there in a second, taking his little hand and going with him to spin the carousel for him until he fell off, dizzy. Mickey lifted him up under his armpits and encouraged him to walk it off. Soon all the other kids ran to the carousel and begged Mickey to spin them. He did, but Kev came over and bested him, wielding more pushing power in his taller frame and putting Mickey’s efforts to shame.


	11. Svendy Mother's Day Special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy mother's day to all you mothers out there and to all yours mothers as well :)

                Mandy had had to work two double shifts in order to get Mother’s Day off but she knew it would be well worth it. She crawled out of bed around nine and went to Yev’s room to get him up. He was excited and loud and she had to shush him with a smoke before he put his little hand in hers and toddled to the kitchen.

 

                By the time they’d gotten breakfast ready Ian and Mickey had wandered out and put on a pot of coffee. Yev did a pretty good job of helping until Mickey was up and then he was glued to his father’s heels like a miniature carbon copy duckling, following him around as he wandered between his room and the kitchen, vaguely getting ready for the day.

 

                Ian stepped in where Yev had ducked out and helped Mandy make breakfast for everyone. They were silly, throwing icing sugar at each other and Ian somehow managed to get jam behind his ear even though the jam was barely a part of their little food fight. (Mickey took care of that when Mandy and Yev were out of the room, cleaning it off with his tongue and nibbling at Ian’s ear.) Mandy left Ian to finish making breakfast for himself and Mickey and Yev before she put a portion of the breakfast on a tray and herded the youngest Milkovich down the hall and into his mother’s room.

 

                They (Yevgeny mostly) had been loud since they got up which was fortunate since the little boy practically shrieked when he bounded into the room, hopping up on the bed to throw his arms around his mother. She’d been sitting up when he’d come in and she accepted the embrace with a smile, hugging him back. He babbled about how excited he was to spend the day with his dads but as soon as Mandy stepped up to the bed with the tray he saw her and, presumably remembering why they were doing this in the first place, he switched topics.

 

                “Me and Auntie Mandy made you breakfast! Happy Mother’s Day!” he exclaimed, bouncing off his mom to sit next to her so Mandy could place the tray across her lap. Yev practically vibrated where he sat and Mandy dismissed him to go eat his own breakfast and get dressed and ready for his day. He kissed his mom and told her he loved her and then he was off, shooting out of the room to the kitchen.

 

                “Is good,” Svetlana said after she’d had the first mouthful of her pancakes. She chewed quietly and Mandy glowed with pride when she finished every last scrap of her breakfast. Svetlana got to her feet to bring the tray to the kitchen, stopping to press a kiss to Mandy’s cheek on the way. “Thank you.”

 

                They heard Yev bounding down the hall and Mandy kissed Svetlana tenderly, smiling against her mouth. “Happy Mother’s Day,” she said quietly, stepping back as Yev burst into the room. Mandy bit her lip and eyed Svetlana as she left the room to help Yevgeny get dressed. Mandy couldn’t keep the grin off her face as she took the tray of dirty dishes to the kitchen and helped Ian wash them. Ian and Mickey were taking Yev for the day and part of the night so that Svetlana could have a day to take it easy, and Mandy couldn’t wait to pamper her girlfriend and treat her like a queen like she deserved.


	12. Yevgeny begs Svetlana to invite V and Fiona to bring the kids and hang out with them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes hello I have fallen in some Svendy and I can't get up

                “Mom,” Yevgeny called, bursting into the front door of the Milkovich house on a Friday afternoon after walking home from school. He had high hopes for a fun weekend ahead of him; he just hoped his mom remembered the vague promise that she’d given him.

 

                He took his stuff off at the door and dumped his backpack on top of his shoes, then did a quick scan of each room to find his mom. He found her in the basement doing laundry, holding some of his aunt’s stuff.

 

                “Mom, are we still going to the zoo tomorrow?” he asked, leaning against the dryer where she was sorting and holding the clothes into piles.

 

                “I say I would do that?” Svetlana asked after a moment’s paused and after Yev’s earnest nod, she frowned. “When?”

 

                “Last weekend,” he replied, shifting his weight nervously. “You said we could go and that I could ask Gemma and Amy and Liam if V and Fiona could bring them too.”

 

                Did she really agree to that? She was civil with Veronica and Fiona but she felt like they thought of her as some bitchy interloper. It didn’t bother her much since they treated Mandy pretty similarly. She normally wouldn’t care either, but lately Yev had been wanting to hang out with their kids more and more outside of school. She suspected it was because he had a bitch of a crush on one of the twins, though he was loathe to admit it since he still thought girls were gross. Mickey and Ian chuckled together and high-fived the first time they’d heard him say it like that, though they knew his tune might change in a few years. Most kids didn’t think about their sexuality when they were seven.

 

                The more she thought about it, the more she remembered the conversation. She’d only agreed because he’d walked in on her and Mandy and she wanted him to get out of the room as soon as possible. Fortunately he hadn’t seen anything since Mandy had been under the covers but she was still rushed and a little hysterical since she had been _thisclose_.

 

                When Ian teased her about it later (because of _course_ he’d heard the whole thing and unlike Yev he wasn’t ignorant to the tense Mandy-shaped lump under the blanket) she’d said coldly; “he is asshole like his father. Teach him to knock,” before she resigned herself to the fact that she was bringing Yev to the zoo on her rare Saturday off and spending it with two of the woman in the neighbourhood who liked her to least. Considering she was a whore who was often used by men to cheat on their wives, that was a fairly long list.

 

                “Da. We go to zoo tomorrow. Later I call Veronica and Fiona and tell them,” she said, already plotting how to bribe Mandy into coming with them as Yev launched himself at her and hugged her around the middle.


	13. Lip makes a comment about Mandy that Mickey is less than pleased by

                “Ay, hands off,” Mickey snapped and Lip ignored him, snagging a sausage off one of the plates Mickey had piled high with eggs and sausages. He flipped the egg he was cooking and glared at Lip. “Those are for Ian, asshole.”

 

                “Really? ‘Cause the way I hear it, Ian is the one giving you sausage,” Lip said, taking a seat on a stool at the counter.

 

                “Laugh it up, fuckhead,” mickey grunted, brandishing the spatula at Lip. “But no more. He’s finally eating on his own so I’m not gonna let the chance pass.”

 

                “Whatever,” Lip said, munching on the pilfered sausage. He set about trying to do some school work but he got distracted watching Mickey cook, surprised by his competence. “Don’t imagine all your siblings are so fucking domestic, are they?”

 

                Mickey looked up from the pan. “The fuck’s that mean?”

 

                Lip shrugged. “You’re practically living here, cooking and cleaning and pitching in to the squirrel fund. Mandy did it too when she was living here. It’s like you two were hard-wired to be domestic and you don’t get a lot of chances to be, so when you do you go all out or some shit.”

 

                “You’ve lost the right to say anything about my sister,” Mickey snapped. Lip could tell he’d struck a nerve. If Mickey could overlook being called out on his domestic ways in favour of defending Mandy, he must have.

 

                “Pretty sure I can say whatever I want and you can’t fucking stop me,” Lip said. “Besides, she’s her own worst enemy. Not my fault she has awful taste.”

 

                “Not your fucking fault?” Mickey scoffed. “You couldn’t control what she fucking did, yeah, but you could control what you did, and what you did was treat her like shit.”

 

                “You can fucking talk. How long did you string Ian along before admitting he meant something to you?”

 

                “I regret that every second of every day. But I fixed shit and now everything’s good,” mickey gestured around them with the spatula before he used it to lift the egg out of the pan and deposited it on a plate. “How could you be with someone and take it for granted? Fuck, if I felt safe being with Ian sooner shit would be a lot different.” He dumped the pan and the spatula in the sink and gathered the plates and utensils. “I did some bad shit in the past and I wish I could have gotten over some of my shit sooner but now I have and I’m not gonna waste it like you fucking did.” He turned to leave the kitchen, presumably to head upstairs with breakfast for himself and Ian. He paused in the doorway and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t say a fucking word about Mandy ever again or I promise you no one will ever find your body.” That said, he made his way up the stairs and out of sight.


	14. Mickey the factory mechanic and Ian the temp lineworker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is born of the fact that there's a mechanic at my work who looks like mickey + ten years. so here's future gallavich featuring mickey the mechanic and ian the temporary lineworker. what I was thinking is ian just got out of a mental ward stint and his doctor recommends he get a job to help establish a routine so he gets in with a temp agency that places him at the factory where mickey works as a mechanic. yep.

                “Got your workboots?” Mickey asked as they strode to the El station nearest their place.

 

                “Yep,” Ian said. “In my bag.”

 

                “Take your pills?”

 

                “Yep. When you reminded me to earlier,” Ian answered. “And before you ask if I’ve got my lunch; you’ve got it.”

 

                Mickey sighed, pausing to wait for the train since they’d reached the platform. “I’m not trying to nag you, Ian. Just trying to make sure you’re ready for work.”

 

                “I am ready,” Ian insisted. “I promise you, I am. I know I just got back from the psych ward but I haven’t lost it. I can remember to bring my boots to work and take my pills.”

 

                “Just making sure,” Mickey grumbled, stepping onto the train. “Remind me not to care again.”

 

                Ian tried to get Mickey to talk to him again, apologized repeatedly, but Mickey ignored him with surprising determination. He kept it up all the way to break when they sat drinking their coffees and eating their muffins.

 

                “You look cute in your uniform,” Mickey mumbled, fidgeting and tearing open a sugar packet and dumping it in his coffee.

 

                “You’re not bad yourself, now that I see you in action,” Ian said, smiling into his cup. “I was never really sure what you did at work.”

 

                “Well now you know,” Mickey said. “Fix machines for bitchy old ladies and occasionally hot temps.”

 

                “Temps as in plural? There are other hot temps you’re working with?” Ian asked.

 

                “Nah, none of ‘em want anything to do with a crotchety old guy like me.”

 

                “Oh, trust me, you’re not an old man. I know old men… or did you forget?”

 

                “Ay, you promised not to talk about that,” Mickey said, pointing at Ian in accusation. Ian pushed his hand away and covered it with his own, grinning. The buzzer went, interrupting their moment rather obnoxiously, but Ian was content to watch Mickey bend over and pick up boxes until lunch.


	15. Ian and Mickey discuss Yev's future sexuality

“I guess we know who he takes after in that department,” Ian chuckled after receiving a speech from Yev about how gross girls are, seemingly from nowhere. They talked him through it and told him he didn’t need to like girls if he didn’t want to, that neither of them liked girls either and his mom wouldn’t be upset or anything, which seemed to appease him. He went on about his usual life as an eight year old but Ian and Mickey kept on the topic.

“He’ll probably feel different when he gets older,” Mickey said, gathering up their dishes from dinner and putting them in the sudsy sink. “It’s only like 10% or something, right? What’re the chances that the only family I actually give a shit about is full of gays?”

“It happens,” Ian shrugged. “Not like it’s genetic or anything.”

Mickey snorted. “No. Don’t think I’d be the way I am if it was genetic or whatever,” he paused, falling silent as he started on the dishes. “… what if he’s straight, though? Neither of us knows how to be straight… I mean, the straightest person in his family is my sister and she’s been giving even you a run for your money lately.”

Ian smacked Mickey with the back of his hand, grinning, then took up the dishtowel to dry while Mickey washed. “If he’s straight, he’s straight. Can’t really do anything about it.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Mickey said. He cringed. “But if he’s straight he’ll become an obnoxious straight boy like your brother.”

“Hey, not all straight guys are terrible. Lip’s just an awful example.”

“He’s gonna bring girls home and try to fuck them in our house. As if there aren’t enough squealing girly orgasms in this fucking place already,” Mickey ranted, gesturing with his sponge and soapy hands. “There’s nothing worse than a gross fucking straight boy trying to stick his dick in any girl that will let him.”

“How about a gay boy trying to stick his dick in any girl that will let him?” Ian asked, eyebrows arched as he looked pointedly at Mickey, who did not have a comeback.


	16. Ian is manic and propositioning some wild stuff; Mickey goes for the lesser of two evils

                “Ian, we need to stop there,” Mickey said, gesturing to the second-hand store as they drove past it. “Shit, firecrotch, turn around. We gotta go there and get a crib for my kid.”

 

                “We should go on a road trip,” Ian decided. He took the next right he could and headed definitively in the direction of the highway. “We’re going on a road trip. Ever been to Peoria? Me either; let’s go.”

 

                “We’re not goin’ to fucking Peoria, man,” Mickey said. “Jesus, the fuck is wrong with you lately? Let’s go pick up the crib and get my bitch of a wife off my back.”

 

                “Nah, don’t feel like it. Let’s go to Peoria and have a threeway. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

 

                “Does it so – no, it doesn’t fuckin’ sound fun. We gotta stick to the plan, or I’m gonna get my dick ripped off.”

 

                “Can’t get your dick ripped off if you’re in Peoria getting fucked by two dudes at once,” Ian said, cheerful. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. What’s wrong with fun?”

 

                “Nothing,” Mickey said, playing along in the hopes of distracting Ian. “How ‘bout we have some fun here?”

 

                “Like, here in the car?” Ian asked, eager. He pulled off to the side of the road sloppily and practically ripped the keys from the ignition before the car had fully stopped.

 

                “No. No, no. No fuckin’ way,” Mickey said, wrestling Ian’s groping hand off his dick. “You’re not fuckin’ me in a parked car in the middle of the day in a random shitty neighbourhood. Save it for later,” Ian settled back into his own seat and started the car back up. He pulled a u-turn and headed back towards the second-hand store and their neighbourhood, much to Mickey’s relief. “Once we finish our shit, I’ll suck you off or something. Burn off some of your energy.”

 

                “You should suck me off now,” Ian decided. Mickey gaped as he undid his pants one-handedly and then left if for Mickey to take over. When Mickey didn’t immediately dive on his dick mouth-first Ian shrugged and turned the car around again. “Peoria it is then. Hey, you think they got any muscle bear bars there? I bet we could pick one up no problem, but you might have to do most of the work. Shake your ass a little, let some guys feel you up. You’d like to get fucked by some big hairy guy, right?”

 

                “Fuck. Alright. Turn the fuck around and make sure no-one sees,” Mickey said, propping himself up on the armrest with one hand and Ian’s thigh with the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can tell you from experience, road tripping to Peoria for a threeway is better than this fic makes it sound lol


	17. Mickey the single dad and Ian the english teacher

Mickey stood in front of his mirror chewing his lip raw and after several minutes of debate he ended up tossing both ties onto the bed and going without. He returned to the mirror and flexed everything he could, sucking in his stomach so he looked puffed-up and broad. He couldn’t do anything about his height but he could do his best to look as impressive as possible.

Once he’d inspected himself from every possible angle he got his coat and tied up his boots, then poked his head into the kitchen to get Yev where he was supposed to be eating his dinner. He found an empty plate and an equally empty chair, and frowned, stalking off down the hall to Yev’s room and knocking. After hearing Yev should permission for him to open the door, Mickey pushed it open.

“Yeah, dad?” he asked, pausing his video game and looking up to his doorway where his dad scowled at him.

“The fuck you doin’? Get your shit on, we got that parent-teacher shit tonight.”

Yev blinked. “My marks are fine. I don’t need to go talk to any teachers.”

“Yeah you do. Just the one.”

“Which one?” Yev asked, and Mickey stared at the floor and mumbled something, prompting a goofy grin from Yev. “Mr. Gallagher?”

“He your English teacher?” Mickey asked nonchalantly, as if he didn’t already know.

“Yeah,” Yev replied, saving the game and turning off the console and TV, then shooing Mickey out of his room. Mickey grabbed the keys and Yev put on his coat and shoes before leading the way out of the house. Mickey tried not to look too excited as he locked the apartment and they walked to the staircase.

“You know, english is my best subject,” Yev commented, eyeing his father. “I’m acing it. We don’t really need to go in for a conference.”

“Can’t be too sure,” Mickey said, smoothing out the creases in his nicest jeans and tugging his collar so it stayed flat.


	18. Ian and Mickey are in the foster system with parents who actually give a shit

                _ay, firecrotch. can u get out 2nite?_

 _no_ , Ian tapped out, hiding his phone under the edge of the table so his foster parents’ daughter (his “sister” as his foster ‘rents put it, but Ian only had two sisters and they lived in another shittier part of town) didn’t see and rat on him. _family dinner or some smth_

 

                He picked up his pencil and frowned at the math homework staring up at him, taunting him. He’d meet up with Mickey at lunch tomorrow and get his help on it. He was shit at math but for someone who cuts class and told all his teachers to go fuck themselves Mickey was oddly good at it.

 

                _txt when ur done n we can sneak out smwr and meet_

_dunno if I can_ , Ian replied, and then his foster dad was bustling into the kitchen and he had to hide his phone. Then he packed up his homework stuff and stowed it away in his backpack then helped his “foster sister” set the table while his “foster brother” brought out the juice. His foster folks brought the food to the table and they all sat down and paused to say grace before they started eating. Ian felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he was anxious to get finished so he could plot with Mickey to try and sneak out.

 

He rushed through dinner and tried to make it seem like he wasn’t. When his foster dad asked him where the fire was he just said he was tired and that he just wanted to finish his homework and go to bed. His foster folks coaxed a little more conversation about school out of him before finally dismissing him. He grabbed his bag to make it look more convincing but as soon as he got up to his room he got out his phone and agreed to meet Mickey two hours later after he bribed his foster siblings who occasionally felt like real siblings when they did things like that for him.

 

                He slipped them each a twenty to tell their parents that he was asleep and bid them each a farewell before he slid open the window and climbed out, perching on the sill. He darted back in as an afterthought and grabbed his backpack with his unfinished homework. Mickey would probably help him with it if he sucked his dick.


	19. Double Gallavich Beach Adventures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have more ideas for this one so I might write another double gallavich beach fic

                “Move over man, you’re hogging the fucking umbrella,” Mickey grumbled, lighting a smoke. Lip just flipped him off and tilted it so it better shaded them both.

 

                “There. Quit your fucking bitching. I don’t wanna get burned any more than you do,” Lip said, scratching at his stomach. He snagged Mickey’s smokes and shook one out of the pack, smirking and sticking it in his mouth in spite of Mickey’s glare.

 

                “ _You’re_ worried about burning?” Mickey asked, eyebrows raised. “Have you even fuckin’ seen me?”

 

                “Yeah, been seeing way too much if you all day. You’re paler than your fucking ginger boyfriend, so that’s something. If you’re so worried about burning put a shirt on or something.”

 

                “Ian took it away from me,” Mickey said, slumping back and propping himself up with his arms. He poked at the sand with his feet. “Won’t give it back till we go home. Says I need a little sun.”

 

                “You’re so fucking whipped,” Lip laughed, brushing ashes off himself when Mickey flicked his spent cigarette butt at him. He made an exaggerated whip cracking sound and laughed as Mickey moved to punch him but stopped when Ian came bounding over to them.

 

                Mickey couldn’t keep his eyes off Ian; how his wet skin shimmered in the sun and his hair shone like fire and the sun brought out his freckles and Mickey mostly just wanted to climb him like a fucking tree. Times like these he had to remind himself that this was his life and Ian was his boyfriend and no matter how shitty everything else was he still got to go home with _that_ every day.

 

                Ian stopped in front of them and Mandy jogged to catch up with him. She stopped, panting lightly from the run. Nobody was athletic like Ian, so it was unsurprising that he hadn`t even broken a sweat.

 

                Mandy dug into their bag and got out a towel, shaking it open and then laying it down on the ground beside Mickey. She sat cross-legged on one half of it and Ian sat on the other, facing her bared back. She took her hair down from the bun it had been in and Ian started combing it through with his fingers. Mickey and Lip watched him separate it into three sections and then begin braiding it with deft fingers.

 

                They watched a pair of male joggers pass. Ian even paused his braiding to admire them. “Dibs on the blond,” he declared, resuming his activity when they continued down the beach.

 

                “You can’t dibs a guy when your boyfriend is right there,” Mandy said.

 

                “You just wish you’d dibsed him first,” Ian teased.

 

                “Wish I had too,” Mickey admitted quietly, still watching the guys even though they were too far away to really watch.

 

                “Anyway, you don’t know he’s gay,” Mandy argued. “Either of them.”

 

                “You don’t know they’re straight,” Ian sad, and Mickey finally tore his eyes away from the pair since they were turning around and coming back.

 

                They silently watched as the two men ran past them again. Ian let out a whistle. “I changed my mind. Now that I’m looking at the other guy from the back, I’m way more interested in him.”

 

                “Just ‘cause he’s a got a nice ass doesn’t mean he’s a bottom,” Mickey pointed out.

 

                “That’s true. I guess I just got lucky with you, huh?” Ian said, winking at his own double entendre at Mickey who rolled his eyes.

 

                “Yeah, lucky I didn’t back your face in,” Mickey mumbled, taking the chilly bottle of Coke Ian passed him and wiping the sand off it. “You were such a little pussy with your fucking bangs. Never met anyone with such a babyface.”

 

                “Gets me tons of tips,” Ian shrugged. “You’d be surprised how many old guys pay to fantasize about that shit.” Mickey gave Ian a look and he laughed. “Nevermind. I guess you actually do know.”

 

                Mickey scowled. “Shut the fuck up about your fucking fanclub already.”

 

                “No need to get jealous, Mick,” Ian said fondly, reaching for Mickey’s hand to hold it but getting shrugged off. “You’re the only guy who gets to do anything kinky to this babyface.”

 

                “Oh, for fuck sakes!” Lip exclaimed, promptly throwing a handful of sand and Mickey and Ian as they proceeded to eyefuck each other. “It was bad enough when you were all checking out those dudes but this is too fucking much.”

 

                “Ever had sex on a beach, Mick?” Ian asked, crawling in closer to Mickey and leaning in to kiss him. “Wanna try it?”

 

                “No fucking way, firecrotch,” Mickey said, covering Ian’s mouth with one of his hands. “As much as I like making your brother want to gouge his eyes out, save it for later.”


	20. Ian and Mickey go swimming in a rich old guy's pool

                “You sure he’s gone? Like not gonna call the cops or some shit?” Mickey asked as they pushed open the gate along the side of the house. They let it swing shut behind them and Mickey let out a low whistled as they entered an impressive courtyard complete with cushy-looking chairs, umbrellas and swanky patio tables and a big oval pool. The shallow end had a tiered rock waterfall on one side and if it was darker out there would probably be coloured lights along the walls of the pool.

 

                “You care?” Ian asked. “Where was all that care when you used to rob my store?”

 

                “I don’t fuckin’ care,” Mickey rolled his eyes and swung his bag off his shoulder. He got out a beer each for them and all the tools he needed to roll a joint. “How d’you know this old fucker well enough for him to give you his keys? Like I’ve got my own assumptions but they’re disgusting so prove me wrong. Please.”

 

                “You remember that guy you decked at the club last week? The one who offered me pills to go with him to the bathroom and suck his dick and you overheard the whole thing?” Mickey scoffed and nodded. “He’s gone on vacation with his family complete with a black eye. He’s been inviting me for weeks to come to his place and swim in his pool. A week ago he mentioned that he was going on a holiday with his family and I may have done a little threatening to blackmail him until he offered me his place this weekend.”

 

                “Shit, Gallagher,” Mickey chuckled, stripping off his shirt and tossing it onto one of the chairs. He scratched his stomach and fumbled with his belt. “Blackmail? Never thought you had it in you.”

 

                Ian shrugged like it was nothing and Mickey practically purred. “I got an idea and I ran with it.”

 

                “Well keep runnin’ with it. This tough guy act is fucking hot.” He looked Ian over, biting his lip.

 

                They let that tough-guy horniness carry on and flitted around it, teasing each other and fooling around. They chased each other around the pool and pushed each other under. They took breaks to get high and drink and then one would make a plot to push the other into the pool but would inevitably end up falling in tangled together. They’d surface laughing and kissing and clinging to each other with lingering touches.

 

                The tension built up between them after their second joint-break when it finally broke. Mickey pushed Ian down on one of the deck chairs and plucked the joint from his fingertips, sucking in a hit of smoke and straddling Ian. The kissed heatedly, smoke spilled from where their lips parted and Mickey bit at Ian’s lip, pulling back to look at Ian, cocking an eyebrow.

 

                It didn’t take any more than that for them to be naked and locked together, Mickey kissing Ian hard and grinding down on Ian’s cock. Mickey was happy and high and horny and Ian loved him like this. He was all over Ian, yanking on his hair and clawing at his shoulders and just exuding need and want.

 

                Their first fuck in the chair was nothing short of spectacular and when they slid back into the pool after they were light and carefree. They swam around and wrestled in the pool together, leading to their second fuck when Ian pressed Mickey against the wall of the pool. Mickey clutched at the concrete beside the pool and Ian held him by the hips, biting at the back of Mickey’s neck to stifle his sounds when he slid smoothly into his boyfriend.

 

                Ian lifted one of Mickey’s thighs to hold him open and pounded into him. That was when the old man’s maid came home and caught them in the pool and called the police. When they heard the sirens they snapped out of it mid-fuck and shot out of the pool. Mickey grabbed his bag and shoved their beer and weed into it and Ian grabbed their clothes and they were off, streaking away from the house like the South Side shits they are.


	21. Mickey has to get glasses and Ian is surprised by them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of wish I'd published these as each individual fics like I did with fic feb oops. (i might do that next month when i'm on vacation) then I could dedicate this one to ao3 user milominderbinder who inspired this one with their fic which can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1557191  
> apologies for my inability to html sob

                As was typical when Ian came home from work, he pretty much just fell into bed with Mickey after changing out of his clothes and washing off his makeup. If Mickey was awake they’d exchange a few words and if they were feeling ambitious they’d fuck but they usually saved that for mornings and weekends. Usually they talked a little and fell asleep curled up together and tonight was one of those nights.

 

                Ian stripped down to his underwear and scrubbed off his eyeliner, then crawl into bed with Mickey. He started on his back but Mickey was awake and he shoved at Ian’s side.

 

                “Roll over, man,” he said gruffly and Ian did, settling in when Mickey scooted in against his back and laid a heavy arm over his waist.

 

                Ian was warm and comfortable and just about to doze off in Mickey’s arms when he remembered something. “How was your doctor’s appointment?” he asked.

 

                “It was alright,” Mickey replied, breath coming out against Ian’s neck in a humid puff of comfort. “Gotta go back next week and pick up my new glasses.”

 

                “…can we afford that?”

 

                “We’re gonna have to. I can’t see shit,” he said, silent for a moment. “I’ll try and pick up a double shift this weekend. We’ll make it work.”

 

                Ian was quiet for another minute, then let out something reminiscent of a giggle and Mickey prepared himself for the kind of ridiculous comment that only came with Ian being overtired. “You’re gonna have to wear glasses.”

 

                “…and?” Mickey asked when his boyfriend failed to elaborate.

 

                “You’re gonna be even more of a grumpy little old man,” Ian cackled and Mickey pinched one of Ian’s nipples, drawing a pained yelp out of him. It didn’t deter him though. “Should I get you a chair for the porch so you can yell at kids to get off our lawn?”

 

                “Shut the fuck up, firecrotch,” Mickey grumbled, and before Ian could go on, he said; “As long as you’re awake you might as well do something useful and suck my dick.”

 

                “But I’m tired, Mick,” Ian sighed, holding Mickey’s arm around him when he moved to pull it back.

 

                “Then go the fuck to sleep,” Mickey growled, and the glasses conversation was forgotten.

 

-

 

                It was days before Ian thought about it again. He was off work for the day so he had gone and spent it with Fiona and helped her clean his old house. Mainly the attic and basement, which was an affair and a half. As a result, Ian was later than expected getting back home even though he had committed to making dinner for Mickey since he’d worked that day. The fact that the door to the apartment was locked when he got there was a promising sign, and he hoped that Mickey had to work late or his El train got delayed or something so that Ian could sneak in and at least pretend he’d been home and tried to make something.

 

                Of course, he wasn’t expecting to come into the kitchen and dump his jacket on the back of a chair, only to have Mickey perk up and looked at him over the back of the couch.

 

                “I ordered Chinese,” he announced, turning back to the TV. “You can pay and pretend you cooked it. I’m not picky.”

 

                “Mick,” Ian began, taking slow cautious steps closer to the couch where his boyfriend sat.

 

                “I ordered double bean sprouts since I know you love that shit, but if you touch my second egg roll I will shoot your fucking hand off,” Mickey continued, trying at nonchalance as he shifted the black-framed glasses on his face self-consciously. Ian stopped just short of bumping into the back of the couch and paused to look down at Mickey contemplatively. The contemplation didn’t last long since a second later Ian was climbing over the back of the couch and pinning Mickey to it.

 

                Their steamy makeout session was interrupted when Mickey’s phone rang for them to go to the lobby of their building and pick up their Chinese, but after they did it was abandoned on the kitchen counter. Ian took Mickey’s hand and pulled him off towards their bedroom, practically purring as he suggested they do a teacher/student roleplay which Mickey was a little hesitant about. He never understood why anyone would wanna bang a teacher, but after having Ian climb into his lap and grind against him, breathlessly moaning ‘oh, _professor_ ,’ and yanking on his tie he could definitely understand the appeal. (Of fucking a _student_ , at least.)


	22. Mickey is stressed out and needs a little help and he finds it in an unlikely source

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the mickey and debbie brotp train

                Holly was pissed off that Debbie didn’t text her when she’d gotten home like she’d said she would, but Debbie lost interest in much else when she’d found Mickey fretting over the Ziploc bags of money and sheets of graph paper that littered the Gallagher kitchen table. He looked like he wanted to rip out his hair and Debbie couldn’t help but be curious.

 

                She set her bag down beside the counter and slid into the unoccupied seat at the end of the table. She greeted him and he grunted and even Mickey wasn’t usually that rude to her unless he was in a truly foul mood.

 

                “What are you working on?” she asked, pulling one of his sheets towards her and squinting at the scribbled numbers on them. “Are you doing math?”

 

                “Trying to balance the books. Kev tried to do it last month and fucked everything up.” Mickey heaved a sighed and went about tearing open one of the Ziploc bags and recounting the money. “I’ve done this three times already but it just don’t add up.”

 

                Debbie knows why she did it. On top of the fact that Mickey actually wasn’t a bad guy, contrary to what he’d probably have people believe, he seemed to be exhausted. To his credit, he had a lot on his plate and she was sure if she was in his situation she wouldn’t have handled it half as well. He was a victim of his environment, forced to deal with a million things beyond his control.

 

                Yev was getting older and Svetlana was getting needier. With the rate he was growing he needed new clothes and stuff for school and this and that and he and his mother were bleeding Mickey dry. It wasn’t really his fault (or Svetlana’s, not really; she was just trying to provide for her son and her own wages at the rub n’ tug just weren’t cutting it) but it still stretched Mickey thinner than he’d ever been stretched before.

 

                Then there was Kev, who was putting so much pressure on Mickey that he felt like he might snap at any second. As if Kev’s constant badgering for money to keep up with the needs of his twins wasn’t enough, last month he’d fucked things up royally when he’d tried to work out the expenses for the business. He’d tried to hide it and cover it up and when Mickey confronted him on it he just insisted he didn’t have time and that Mickey should do it himself or just leave it be. Mickey was too intent on getting his due sum to let Kev’s shaky math be.

 

                Like the cherry to top it all off, Ian had been in and out of the mental ward and on different drug cocktails but nothing seemed to be working for him. When he was in the nuthouse he was spiritless and always depressed (and Mickey couldn’t really blame him) and when he was at home he was erratic and emotional since his meds weren’t quite balanced. Mickey was beyond worried about him and honestly he could deal with all the other shit if Ian was on the level. Having his boyfriend so anxious and fuck up and depressed was his number one stressor, even in the shitstorm of his life.

 

                Something divine must have been aware of his frustration and impending emotional breakdown because suddenly there was Debbie, descended like an angel from above. She had to prod Mickey a bit to get him to open up but when he did she did her best to help him as much as possible. He was surprised to find that she was much more helpful that he’d first given her credit for.

 

                They had sor4ted out Mickey financial business by dinner. Mickey was impressed to say the least and Debbie had a newfound respect for Mickey and the mountain of responsibilities piled on him. She helped him back all his work away and they had dinner with Carl and Bonnie and Liam since everyone else was at work or school or a mental institution. Then she made Mickey a coffee and got out her math homework. She did her work and had Mickey check her answers. Her work was perfect.

 

                “We’ll make a fine pimp out of you yet,” Mickey said, offering Debbie a smile and passing her back her textbook. “Maybe even something better. You never know.”

 

                Debbie was flattered and immensely pleased.


	23. Mickey has an embarrassing nickname and Ian is amused

                “So this is your aunt?” Ian asked as they pulled into the driveway and got out of the car. Mickey grabbed the duffel bag from the back seat and locked the car up.

 

                “Yeah. Mom’s sister,” Mickey replied, leading the way up the steps.

 

                “Ah, so she’s not a real Milkovich, then? There’s not many actual Milkovich women, are there?”

 

                Mickey scoffed. “She may not be related to us by blood, but she’s as real a Milkovich as me or Mandy or dad,” he said.

 

                Ian raised his eyebrows. “Really? I find that hard to believe.”

 

                “Tell me she’s not a tough old broad after she comes at you with a shotgun,” Mickey grumbled, banging on the screen door roughly.

 

                There was no shotgun this time, just the inside door opening and a short stocky woman with curly dark hair squinting through the screen at them. Mickey’s face broke into a grin at the sight of her and her expression softened too, and she unhooked the door and pushed it open.

 

                To Ian’s surprise Mickey hugged her without hesitation and when she stepped back she eyed Ian. “This your boyfriend, Mick? Or are the rumours I been hearin’ bullshit?”

 

                “Prob’ly, but this one is true,” Mickey moved out of the way and gestured to the redhead behind him. “Aunt Rande, this is Ian, my boyfriend.”

 

                Rande stepped back for them and swept her arm back to welcome them into her house. They stepped inside and she led them through to the kitchen where Mickey dropped their bag on the table.

 

                “So I won’t waste time asking how you two met and all that shit since it’s a damn miracle you’re together and still alive,” she began, and Ian found himself loving that harsh accent since it reminded him of Mickey’s, but exaggerated. “I’ll just let you get to it. Lunch’ll be ready for you boys in about an hour.”

 

                “Can you make mac n’ cheese like you used to?” Ian asked, more earnest than Ian had ever seen him save for a few of their more deep emotional conversations. It unnerved him a little that Mickey was so enthusiastic about this when he was seldom enthusiastic about anything. “With the little meatballs?”

 

                “You always liked meatballs,” Rande mused. “Put them in anything and you’d eat it, even if you hated the food otherwise.” She paused, smirking. “Should have seen that as a sign sooner.”

 

                “Hah,” Mickey said, rolling his eyes. He dug his spare clothes out of the bag and threw Ian’s at him, before he took the redhead by the arm and dragged him off to Rande’s guest room to change.

 

-

 

                An hour later Ian and Mickey climbed up to the main floor and left their shoes at the top of the stairs to pad to the kitchen in their socks. Waiting for them were heaping bowls of mac n’ cheese on the table, complete with the little meatballs that had Mickey groaning in bliss and grinning even as his cheeks were stuffed with the delicious cheesy goodness.

 

                Rande placed beers on the table for each of them and took her own seat. She took a gulp of beer and poked at her macaroni. “How’s the basement coming?”

 

                “Good. We’re like half done,” Ian replied once it became obvious that Mickey was so engrossed in his lunch that he wasn’t going to answer her himself. “Are you planning on renting it out, or…?”

 

                “Yeah. Had a couple people show an interest so I figured I’d clean it up and see if I could make some money off it,” she replied.

 

                Ian nodded and silence fell between them as they ate. Mickey finished off his bowl and looked at Rande hopefully and she laughed.

 

                “There’s more on the stove. Help yourself, Porkchop,” she said and Ian gaped as Mickey flushed but refilled his bowl anyways.

 

                “Porkchop?” Ian snorted and Rande looked just as amused as he did while Mickey pointedly ignored him and sat back down. He went to work devouring his second bowl.

 

                “Mick was a chubby kid,” Rande replied, shrugging. “Mandy, too. Called her Butterball. She loved it when she was little but now she’s all skin and bones and she hates it.”

 

                “I hate it too,” Mickey said, voice muffled by his mouthful of pasta.

 

                “No, you don’t. You like the attention,” Rande assured him. “You just don’t like it when your surprisingly hot boyfriend is here to hear it.”

 

                “Shut the fuck up,” Mickey groaned, slumping over, presumably to suffocate himself in his bowl.

 

                “ _Surprisingly hot_?” Ian asked, a bit scandalized.

 

                “Should’ve known he wouldn’t come out his father for anything less than a smoking hot piece of ass, but you’re even more than I was expecting, dear.”

 

                “I’m… flattered?” Ian offered, grinning and eyeing Mickey as he finished off his second bowl. He got up and brought his and Ian’s bowls to the sink. While he drained his beer Ian got to his feet and helped Rande clear the table. Once he was done, Mickey hooked his fingers in Ian’s beltloops and dragged him down the hall to the spare room he used to stay in when he crashed in this house.

 

                “Gonna take a break and fuck my surprisingly hot boyfriend now,” Mickey called.

 

                “I’ll turn up the TV,” Rande called back, making Ian snicker. “You know where the rubbers are.”

 

                “More of your family members need to be like this,” Ian chuckled, letting Mickey push him against the door and kiss him, hands all over him.

 

                “Shut up and strip down,” Mickey demanded, sucking a hot mark into Ian’s neck.

 

                “Mm… whatever you want, Porkchop,” Ian said, all smug smiles and wiggly eyebrows until Mickey punched him in the kidney.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is borne of the fact that the mechanic at my work who looks like Mickey answers to the name Porkchop


	24. Svetlana and Mandy ask Mickey and Ian for a favour

                “Got any Midol?” Mandy asked, hobbling out of the bathroom and sinking onto the couch next to Svetlana. She dragged the blanket towards herself and tucked her legs up on the couch and under the covers.

 

                Svetlana shook her head. “Nyet. Have Advil. You buy tampons?”

 

                Mandy blanched, which was significant since she’d be looking pretty pasty to begin with. “I forgot,” she said, slumping back against the couch. “Are you feeling up to going? I feel like a goblin is trying to claw its way out of my uterus.”

 

                Svetlana cast a look over to Mandy. “Complain when you have actual creature grow inside belly.” Almost on cue, Yevgeny stirred and she rocked the cradle with her foot as he settled back into silence. “I cannot go. Too sore.”

 

                “Mickeeeeeeeey,” Mandy wailed.

 

He looked up from the dishes he’d been doing. Ian didn’t budge where he worked on his homework at the table. He was listening to music and Mickey was envious since he was being spared the girls’ bitching. “Yeah?”

 

“Go to the store and get a jumbo box of tampons,” Mandy ordered, finding the remote buried in the couch and changing the channel to TLC. It was Honey Boo Boo time.

 

“Fuck no,” Mickey snorted. “Go get ‘em yourself. I don’t do that shit.”

 

“We’re too crampy. Either you or Ian needs to,” Mandy said.

 

“Well I’m sure as fuck not going to,” Mickey said, finishing up the dishes and drying his hands on the dishtowel. “Pretty sure I signed the ‘never having to buy tampons ever’ contract the first time I took a dick up the ass.”

 

“Fine. We are doomed to bleed on all the things,” Svetlana said, sighing as if resigning even to herself. “I will go take nap in your bed now, Meeckey. You might want to clean sheets.”

 

“Fuck, alright,” Mickey said, whacking Ian upside the head as he walked past. Ian tugged his earbuds out, looking bewildered up at Mickey. “C’mon, firecrotch. Help me with this and I’ll blow you later.”

 

Ian didn’t need to ask any more questions after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who was on her period when she wrote this


	25. Mickey actively avoids dancing with Ian at Mandy's wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have seven hundred thousand ideas for Mandy's wedding
> 
> like I'm engaged but I've got more plans made for Mandy's wedding than I have for my own oops

                Mickey tugged at his collar and Ian swatted his hand away, turning it up so was crisply folded like it was meant to be. Mickey only allowed it for a moment before he pushed Ian’s hands off and tried to light a smoke.

 

                “No. Sheila made these vests for us and we’re not getting them all smelly with smoke,” he took the smoke from Mickey and pressed a packaged of nicotine gum into his hand instead. “You need to cut back anyways. I can hear you heaving at night. You’re only 23 and your lungs are already all fucking up.”

 

                Mickey ripped the package open and popped a piece of the gum into his mouth. He looked himself over in the mirror again and Ian shuffled in close behind him, hands on his hips and mouth teasing at the side of his neck.

 

                “You look great, Mick. Sheila did a really good job,” Ian murmured, pausing to suck and bite at Mickey’s neck.

 

                “I can’t decide what’s creepier: the fact that you’re talking about Batty Sheila while pressing your boner against me or that you seem to want to cover me in hickeys before my only sister’s wedding. You got a fuckin’ weird possessive streak in you, Gallagher. And an even weirder Sheila-boner.”

 

                “It’s all for you, baby,” Ian purred, pressing his nose against the side of Mickey’s neck and nuzzling at him. When Mickey didn’t protest the gooey pet name Ian decided to push his luck. He nibbled on Mickey’s earlobe. “Gonna dance with me tonight?”

 

                “Fuck no,” Mickey scoffed, stepping away from Ian and rubbing at the side of his neck where Ian had been teasing him. He continued when he saw Ian’s look of disappointment. “Nothin’ personal, Gallagher. I just don’t dance.”

 

                “Not even for me?” Ian asked, hot on Mickey’s heels as he went to finish getting ready. Mickey bent over to tie his shoes and Ian was there in a second, groping his rear and nearly knocking him over. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

 

                “No amount of sexual favours will make me dance with you,” Mickey assured Ian, finally getting his shoes tied up and straightening back up. “C’mon, we gotta go.”

 

                “One dance,” Ian insisted, pushing Mickey against the hall closet door.

 

                “We’re gonna be late,” Mickey protested, wiggling out of Ian’s grip. “Mandy’ll cut our balls off.”

 

                “…you’re lucky I believe she’d do that,” Ian said after a moment’s thought, stepping back from Mickey. The shorter man straightened his lapel self-consciously while he eyed Ian. “But you’re not off the hook,” Ian swore. “Not by a long shot.”

 

-

 

                And so went their entire night. Ian and Mickey sat together for the ceremony and for the dinner part of the reception (they even made out in the bathroom while they were waiting for Lip and Mandy to come back for pictures), but as soon as the tables were moved off the dance floor, Mickey disappeared. Ian would see a flash of pale skin and purple silk at the bar one second, but he’d blink and his boyfriend was gone. Then he’d think he’d spot Mickey sitting at one of the remaining tables and sipping a beer and he’d make his way over to the table with the intentions of dragging him out onto the dancefloor only to arrive at the table and find no sign that he’d ever been there in the first place.

 

                It was frustrating Ian to no end and unfortunately no one would listen to him while about it except for Mandy. Ian complained a little more about it each time they danced a song together (so he actually complained _a lot_ ) and Mandy was mostly quiet and sympathetic. Of course, with Mandy that couldn’t last so by the end of the night she was rolling her eyes and telling him to stop being such a little bitch.

 

                “Seriously, it took him like four years to officially admit you were in a relationship. Why would you think this would ever happen quickly or easily?”

 

                Ian gaped like a fish for a moment until he settled on a frown. “… you’re taking his side?!”

 

                Mandy sighed as if that was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. “No, I’m not taking his side. He’s an asshole, but one whose shit you should be used to by now.”

 

                “But he’s gotten over so many other things. He’ll hold my hand in public now and he kisses me and introduces me as his boyfriend and he’s come so far and I just can’t understand why he won’t dance with me.”

 

                “Aren’t you proud of him for how far he’s come?” Mandy asked and she stumbled a little as Ian’s steps changed. They were dancing a bit aggressively and in this dress and these heels she welcomed the change.

 

                “Of course I’m proud of him,” Ian said, softly and fondly. “He’s done all these things not just for me, but for himself too.”

 

                “Then just let it be and be proud of him,” Mandy advised. “Like fuck, do you expect every occasion to be some big new groundbreaking step? You gotta learn to love each step as you’re in it instead of pushing towards the next one so hard.”

 

                “I guess you’re right,” Ian admitted. “I just wish he’d at least hang out with me now. He’s been avoiding me since after dinner,” (“Can you blame him?” Mandy snorted.) “and I miss him.”

 

                “Just wait. I don’t think he’ll ignore you all night,” Mandy said, surprisingly wise for someone who used to be so aggressive about her sexual encounters and relationships. “And anyways, it’ll just be that much more special if he initiates it himself.”

 

                Ian shrugged a little as they danced, and set to swaying a little more aimlessly. “I guess you’re right,” he said quietly. “Are you sure he’ll do it on his own?”

 

                Mandy paused and scrunched up her face in though. Ian was in slight awe and envy because the expression made her no less pretty. “Sixty percent?”

 

                “Can’t say I’m thrilled with those odds,” he mumbled, but he put it from his mind as thoroughly as possible and swept Mandy back in a dip. She shrieked in glee and pressed a messy lipstick kiss to his cheek once she was on her feet again.

 

-

 

                Mickey was fairly sheepish when he finally emerged from wherever he’d been hiding and helped Ian finish stacking chairs. The tables were all down and everyone had cleared out, probably for an afterparty at the Gallaghers’. Ian had volunteered to stay back and take down under the excuse that he couldn’t drink on his meds, but really with his boyfriend avoiding him all night he felt grumpy and definitely not in the mood to party.

 

                Ian kept his iPod plugged in to the hall’s speakers, so when Mickey and Ian’s hand brushed trying to pick up the same chair, it was to ‘Happy Ending’ by MIKA.

 

                “How was your night?” Ian asked coolly when Mickey let go of the chair and went to go pick up another one. “Have fun?”

 

                “Yeah, chain smoking in the alley out back and stealing cupcakes is really the way to spend my only sister’s wedding,” Mickey said, rolling his eyes. Ian would call him out on the gay gesture, but he refrained from it since Mickey looked ready to bolt any second.

 

                “And whose fault is that?” Ian asked bitterly. He didn’t really mean to be so bitchy with Mickey but he was hurt even after his talk with Mandy.

 

                “Mine, I guess. But I don’t fucking dance and you wouldn’t leave me alone so it’s sort of your fault too,” Mickey said, rambly and nervous.

 

                Ian scoffed and stomped off to pick up another chair. Mickey started making some comment or another about Ian being a pissy little girl about this but Ian interrupted him. “Mick. It’s fine. Just forget it. You don’t have to do me any fucking favours.”

 

                Mickey dropped the chair he was carrying on the top of the stack and went over to his grumpy boyfriend. Ian pushed him off with an elbow when he tried to wrap his arms around him from behind. Mickey wasn’t having it though, just locked his arms there and kept Ian held back against him.

 

                “What’re you trying to do, Mick?” Ian asked, frustrated as he struggled against Mickey’s deceptively strong grip. “Just let go. We’re almost done. Then we can go home and sleep and forget about this by the morning.”

 

                “No. You know you won’t be over this by the morning,” Mickey said, grunting when Ian put an elbow in his gut again but he didn’t budge. “If you’re not gonna leave this alone then I guess you’d better hope the next song is slow enough to dance to.”

 

                “I told you not to fucking worry about it, Mickey. It’s obviously too much for you and I wouldn’t want you to make a sacrifice for me, for once.” Mickey didn’t even bother trying to argue about all the sacrifices he had made, all the people he’d left behind, and all the things he’d done and dealt with while Ian was manic and depressed and getting his medication under control. He’d learned that he had to pick his battles with Ian, but it didn’t make it any less hurtful when he threw things like that in Mickey’s face.

 

                “We’re not leaving until you fucking dance with me,” Mickey declared. The current song ended while Ian kept resisting, then the song ‘Never Tear Us Apart’ by INXS started and Mickey let Ian go. “Here we go. Let’s do this.”

 

                “Jesus Christ, Mickey,” Ian sighed, but he still placed one hand on Mickey’s hip and the other in his hand as they swayed together. Ian turned his head and kissed Mickey’s temple, smiling against his skin.

 

                “Thanks, Mick,” he said, surprised that his voice came out as thick as if did. Mickey’s arm around his waist tightened but he didn’t move despite how choked-up Ian was. “Love you.”

 

                “Love you too, fuckhead,” Mickey said, pulling Ian a bit closer. “Let’s make out and grind or somethin’. Make this worth my while fuckin’ swaying with you like a fag.”

 

                Ian grinned and kissed Mickey, ignoring his grumbled when he had to get up on his toes to reach properly.


	26. Debbie does 'Take Your Kid to Work Day'

                Fourteen-year-old Debbie Gallagher was worried. She spent a good amount of her life worrying, but this was different. Usually she worried about her siblings and her sort-of-but-not-really ex-boyfriend-future-husband and her friends and if she’d ever get tits and if she’d ever stop looking like a gangly ginger. She held out hoped that Ian, who had been just as awkward and freckly as her at this age, had managed to secure a boyfriend and if he could do it, so too could she. She didn’t want to be with someone like Mickey, but she admitted that she would give anything to have a boy (read: Matty) look at him the way those two idiots looked at eachother when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

 

                For once, it was none of those things that worried fourteen-year-old Debbie Gallagher. For once, it was the one thing in her life that had never worried her before: school. She’d always been a model student and she’d be damned if some dumb careers assignment was the project that defeated her.

 

                It was Friday afternoon and she’d just walked home from school after trying to think of how she was gonna approach Fiona about her problem. Given that her parents were crazy and/or dying addicts, she couldn’t very well go with one of them to their jobs (or lack thereof) on take your kid to work day, so Fiona was next in line.

 

                Debbie’s hopes were crushed before long since Fiona reminded her as she changed the laundry from the washer to the dryer and started folding the dry load, that she works night shifts. The nature of the assignment demanded she accompany a guardian on a day shift to cover the day she would miss of school. She probably would have been able to make a night shift work if she’d made an appeal to her teacher and worked out a compromise. At least, she could have done that if it wasn’t the weekend and she hadn’t had to do the shift on Monday.

 

                She rushed to find alternatives. For once, having a handful of older siblings and family friends would work to her advantage. She had a few options.

 

                But then, as she went through those options she realized that she had less than she thought. V was off work to take care of her twins and Debbie was too young to go to work with Kev at the bar. Sheila didn’t work or Debbie would have tried her. Lip was busy with school and she would take the El to the college campus to work with him at the cafeteria, but he had Liam to take care of already and she didn’t want to put even more weight on his shoulders. She tried texting Mandy about it but she had the same night shift issues as Fiona and it’s not like she could go to work with Ian. She had run out of options and everything looked hopeless. She’d have no choice but to drop out of high school two weeks in and probably fall into the sex trade. Oh how the mighty fall.

 

                She was voicing her woes to her family at dinner on Sunday night when Ian made a suggestion.

 

                “Why don’t you go to work with Mickey?” he mumbled around a mouthful of spaghetti. Mickey looked up at him from his seat beside Ian, raising his eyebrows. “What? You could pretend you run a legitimate massage parlour and then Debs could just go in to the bar and work on her homework all day. When I had to do it, I went with Fi to the laundromat. It’s not like they check.”

 

                “You could do that,” Lip said. “We could give the school V’s cell so if they do call to check she can corroborate your story.”

 

                The whole table (except Liam who was busily doing his best to bath in tomato sauce) looked hopefully at Mickey who speared a meatball and chewed it thoughtfully. He swallowed and went about twirling more spaghetti around his fork tongs. “Can’t.”

 

                “Now isn’t the time to renew your selfish asshole membership,” Lip said, glaring at Mickey and taking a drink of his beer.

 

                “I’m not working at the rub n’ tug tomorrow,” Mickey said. He stabbed one of Ian’s meatballs and swiped it off his plate. “Got a run to make tomorrow and a deal Iggy bailed out on.”

 

                “I thought you were done dealing?” asked Fiona, who had just come down the staircase in her work uniform.

 

                “Bipolar meds ain’t gonna pay for themselves,” Mickey mumbled, and nobody needed to see it to know that Ian had taken Mickey’s hand under the table. He flushed a little and smiled sheepishly down at his spaghetti.

 

                “Will you take me to work with you tomorrow, Mickey?” Debbie asked, and Mickey shrugged.

 

                “I’m leaving at seven and you’re staying in the car while I handle it,” Mickey said, nearly flinging spaghetti at Carl when he tried to eat it and Debbie tackled him with a hug. He didn’t even hug Ian often, much less his family, but he tolerated it. The thanks-for-being-awesome-to-my-family blowjob Ian gave him later made it well worth it.

 

                The next morning Debbie was downstairs waiting in the kitchen when Mickey came down. She was already dressed and eating her breakfast. She lit up when Mickey came in. “Eggs and bacon are in the microwave and coffee’s in the pot. Just push the toaster down and then get dressed and it’ll be done by the time you get back down.”

 

                Mickey blinked and when Debbie encouraged him that everything was ready to go, he just needed to get dressed, he pushed down his toast and dragged himself upstairs again.

 

                After wolfing down his breakfast and guzzling down probably an entire pot of coffee Mickey was ready to go. Debbie only got on Mickey’s nerves once; when she’d interrogated Mickey on his relationship with Ian. Mickey was a bit more aggressive when he told her to shut the fuck up than he meant to be but he had worked way too hard to get Ian back in his lie and healthy to let people (Ian’s family included) talk shit and express their doubts.

 

                Debbie was quiet after that, texting and dicking around on her phone while Mickey drove and smoked. They got in to the neighbourhood they were to go to and Mickey parked up the street from the house.

 

                “How come we’re parked so far from the house?” she asked, squinting down the street not unlike their own at a house not unlike some of the ones in their neighbourhood. “The drop-off is like ten houses down from here.”

 

                “You think I’m gonna park you in front of a house full of methheads?” Mickey asked. “Ian would fuckin’ kill me, then your sister would bring me back just to castrate me and fuckin’ kill me again.”

 

                Debbie got out her notebook and took a careful note about Mickey’s ‘technique’ as she put it later in the assignment she wrote. While she did that, Mickey got out of the car and went around to the trunk where he got out a duffel bag containing the product he was moving. As a last minute precaution, Mickey pulled open the passenger side door and dug through the glovebox. He found the gun he kept there for emergencies and tucked it into the back of his pants.

 

                “Why do you need a gun?” Debbie asked, pausing in her note-taking.

 

                “In case one of these jokers tries to fuck me over,” Mickey replied. When Debbie just blinked at him he gestured to her book where it sat in her lap. “Write that down. And stay here. I’ll be quick.”

 

                Debbie nodded, taking down the note as Mickey slammed the car door shut and hiked up the sidewalk.

 

                Mickey was ten minutes tops. He climbed into the car sans duffel bag but he opened the glovebox again and shoved a thick ratty envelope into it, snapping it back shut. When he pulled back Debbie saw a flash of an impressive shiner blooming in his left eye socket and over his cheekbone.

 

                “What happened there?” Debbie asked.

 

                “Write this down, ‘cause it’s pretty fuckin’ important shit to know in your life,” Mickey began, and Debbie nodded, ready to scribble it down. Like a sage old wizard passing on the meaning of life, Mickey declared: “Talk shit, get hit.”

 

                Needless to say, Debbie had to do some manipulating and elaborating of real-life events in order to make a decent paper out of it, but she supposed a B+ wasn’t half bad for sitting in the car while Mickey got punched in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the brotp for the ages


End file.
